


The Stolen Violin

by dreamkist



Category: The Great Mouse Detective (1986)
Genre: Case Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:05:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamkist/pseuds/dreamkist
Summary: A missing violin leads Basil of Baker Street on a dangerous mission to retrieve it.  A disguise is clearly required.





	The Stolen Violin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [narlyenatvanya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/narlyenatvanya/gifts).



“Dawson, where is my violin? I can’t find the blasted thing,” Basil inquired as he threw pillows about the room.

“I believe I last saw it when you were giving Miss. Olivia a lesson,” the other mouse looked up from his newspaper. He had adjusted well to Basil's ways and was rarely disturbed by the frequent outbursts.

“Yes, but that was last week. I feel a stirring rendition of Mendelssohn coming on and I must have my violin. Have either of you noticed anyone suspicious lingering about the flat?”

“There were some children playing outside the door earlier,” Mrs. Judson said as she picked up the pillows Basil had made a mess of. "I wouldn't call them suspicious though."

Basil was more difficult to fool. "I will find these children and see what they know," he announced.

"I'm sure it will turn up. It's not as though you keep the place orderly," Mrs. Judson added under her breath.

“I must have the violin!” he shouted. Mrs. Judson and Dawson stared at him. He lowered his voice, “Olivia is arriving tomorrow and she will want to practice.”

Dawson gave Basil one of his big eyed looks of understanding and Basil let the anger drain out of him.

“The dear child will understand if you can’t play it with her. She only wants to see you, Basil. Not the violin.”

Basil wasn’t sure he agreed with that statement but he let the words stand. Mr. Flaversham had reopened his shop after the fateful events that had brought them all together and Olivia's visits were a delight. Basil would get to the bottom of this disappearance.

 

Basil stepped out onto Baker Street and took in the bustle of midday. He spotted a group of children playing not too far away. He observed that one of them, a small boy, wasn't quite as spirited as the others. As Basil approached the boy noticed him and looked guilty.

“Hello, sir, how are you today?” the young mouse asked.

“Do you know who I am?” Basil asked.

“You’re Mr. Basil, sir. Everyone’s heard of you. You brought down that rat.”

“Yes, well," Basil couldn't help but be pleased that people knew of him. "I am on the hunt for my violin. You haven’t seen it have you?”

“Well,” the boy trailed off.

“Yes?”

“You see, I was outside your house playing with my friends and you weren’t there and I saw the violin through the window and it looked fun so I borrowed your violin.” He ran the words all together he said them so quickly.

“And where is it now?” Basil asked with as much patience as he could muster.

“I don’t know!” he said and began to blubber.

Basil couldn’t stand for that so he patted his shoulder, “There, there. It will be alright. Just tell me what you have done with it.”

He took a big gulping breath and said, “This mean boy took it from me, Mr. Basil. I tried to chase him but he was too fast.”

Basil pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s alright, what can you tell me about this boy? What did he look like?”

“He was taller than me and very skinny. He had a red hat on and a blue scarf.”

"Do you remember anything about his face?"

"Um," the boy said. "He kind of had a scar on his cheek." 

“Very good. And which way did he run off to?”

The boy led him around a corner and lifted a finger to point down a rather rough alley. Basil knew of a pub and a bawdy house that were down there. It was a dangerous place to be, but Basil knew how to blend in with the regulars.

“Excellent," he said, already planning his disguise. "Home to change and then I will retrieve my violin!”

“Can I come with you, Mr. Basil?” the little boy asked.

“I think I better do this one alone. But thank you for your assistance.”

The boy rubbed at his still red eyes and smiled up at Basil. The young rascal scampered off to find some other mischief to get into.

Basil couldn’t fathom why the children of London seemed to have it out for him. He shook his head and went home to make his preparations to find his violin.

 

Basil adjusted his wig before the mirror and ensured all of his ensemble was perfect. No one would suspect he was Basil of Baker Street, Great Mouse Detective.

Dawson entered the room at that moment and did a double take. “That’s certainly a disguise,” he said in his polite way of not saying what he really meant.

Basil lifted one of the balls of fabric under his blouse so it was positioned more evenly with the other while Dawson stared at him with round eyes.

“Basil.”

“Yes?”

“Why exactly are you dressed as a lady?”

“Do keep up, Dawson. I must infiltrate a den of villainy in pursuit of my violin. Whatever hooligan has stolen from me shall soon face the full weight of the justice system.” He waved his finger about in the air for emphasis.

Dawson looked suitably impressed by his proclamation. “I do hope you find your violin, Basil. It’s as though something is missing without the sound of it in the flat.”

“I concur, Dawson. Fear not! The violin will be here where it belongs in no time.” With those final words Basil exited the flat.

 

Raucous noise spilled out into the alley before Basil even neared the door. A rough group of mice surrounded the entrance to the pub and they eyed the woman who walked by.

Inside, Basil seated himself where he had a clear view of the room. He deduced who the culprit was rather easily. The twitchy hands and furtive glances he cast around the room pegged him as someone looking to do something of the illegal sort. He was still wearing the red hat and blue scarf the boy had described, and Basil could just make out a scar on his cheek. The mouse had a cloth sack on his lap.

The culprit was clearly intending to sell the violin on the black market. Someone with no respect at all for the beauty and craftsmanship of his violin would get their filthy hands on it.

Suddenly, the mouse stood up and left the sack in his chair. Basil briefly considered what he should do. He decided a quick peek in the sack would be alright. This was merely a common, lowlife criminal. Basil was sure he could handle it on his own.

 

Basil would not reconsider his estimation of the difficulty of this criminal. He tugged at the ropes that bound his hands together and again found them unyielding. He let out a huff of air and considered the room from his vantage point of being on his side on the floor. He really did find himself tied up too often.

The table might hold an answer to the dilemma. If he could manage to stand up. He shuffled himself across the filthy floor until he could kick a table leg with his feet. With the first kick a bowl fell off the table and caused a loud sound to echo through the room. Basil froze and waited to see if anyone came to investigate the sound but no one did. He gave the table a few more kicks until several items fell from it to the floor. He lifted his head to see what they were. The silver of a knife caught his eye and shuffled to it. He got his bound hands on it and positioned it to saw through the rope holding him. He was finally getting somewhere with it when a movement caught his eye. The violin thief and another man were watching him.

Basil cleared his throat. “This is dreadful manners, gentlemen. Treating a guest in this way. I am disappointed.”

“Right, I’ve heard of you. Basil of Baker Street. Thinks he’s some detective,” the man said to the thief.

“I don’t have any trouble with you, Basil. I’ll let you go. Don’t raise no fuss and you can walk right out of here.”

“The problem there is you have my violin. I want my violin.” They were raising his ire.

Suddenly two pans were slammed into their heads and the men fell to the floor in a heap. Basil looked on in confusion until Dawson hurried to Basil and removed the ropes from him.

“What are you doing here?” Basil asked as he stood. His wig was askew and his bloomers were exposed but he was otherwise unscathed.

“Well, I followed you. I thought you might need some assistance. Looks like I was right,” he said with a pointed look.

“If you don’t mind, now is not the time.

“I don’t mind at all,” Dawson said gently. “How did they catch you?”

“Mere luck. The thief saw me looking through a sack he had left unattended at his table. It unfortunately did not contain my violin. He didn’t know what I was looking for but he dragged me back here and knocked me out. Well, then, the villains will have a clue for us," he said as he stepped around the unconscious men to search their coat pockets.

 

A rather large rat raised its head and watched Basil and Dawson's approach before it slunk away. The two mice lingered near the entrance to the fence's shop. They didn't see any movement inside through the dirty window. Basil had sent a message to the police about the situation, but he was impatient to find his violin.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Dawson asked.

"We pop in, fetch the violin, and pop out. Simple," Basil told him.

Basil slowly pushed the shop door open and they began to look for the stolen violin among the clutter.

"Dawson!" Basil shouted in excitement. "I've found it!" He lovingly picked up the violin and cradled it.

As he did that the front door opened and the fence was there. Basil and Dawson began to move toward the back of the shop, but the thief had silently entered from there and was closing in on them. He held a nasty looking bat.

"I can't thank you enough, Mr. Detective, for coming here so conveniently," the fence said. "I thought I'd have to spend time tracking you down, but no, you're right here where I want you." His grin was threatening.

"I live to serve," Basil sniffed. "How are your heads feeling? Well, I hope. Dr. Dawson, here, is quite adept at taking down criminals."

The two mice didn't respond to the taunt. They menacingly advanced toward Basil and Dawson who cast about for weapons or anything to use to get out of the situation.

Just then the door crashed in and three officers burst into the room to arrest the thief and fence. Basil breathed a sigh of relief that they had received his message and arrived at that moment. He straightened his wig and watched triumphantly as the thieves were escorted away.

 

Ensconced in his chair, Basil was pleased with his day's work. He had tuned the violin after the ruffians had manhandled it and given it a good polish. Olivia would arrive the next day and they could play. Dawson sat across from him and read a book. Rain was drizzling down outside, but they were warm and safe inside.

"You are indispensable, Dawson,” Basil broke the silence.

After some light sputtering at the comment he replied, “Thank you, Basil.” He flushed and looked quite pleased at the praise. “Perhaps you will remember that the next time you go off on your own.”

Perhaps Basil would. He pulled the bow across the strings and closed his eyes at the plaintive keen.

It had been a good day indeed.


End file.
